


Smut Drabbles

by Ottsky



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), F/F, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Skeleton Sex (Undertale), monster reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottsky/pseuds/Ottsky
Summary: Sometimes I like to write smut. Right now, I don't have any idea what I want to do with this besides dump smut into it. Enjoy!





	Smut Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Reader's In Heat, earlier than expected. Reader is a Skeleton Monster, ecto-vagina & ecto-tiddi is involved. Reader's partner is deliberately undefined beyond having a dick & their base personality.

Everything feels stuffy. It had been a profoundly bad idea to try and do anything this close to heat. You _knew_ it was coming, but here you were, stuck, grocery shopping, feeling like someone could breathe on you and you'd collapse into a wreck. The worst of it was the way it clung to your ribs, sticky and hot, pleasure seeming to vibrate in the thin spaces between. You were tempted, for a moment, to lean against the frozen dinner freezer, but you were certain every single person in the store would hear the noise you made if you did. Let alone the fact that you weren't sure that your pants weren't already damp, and you didn't need to be leaving around bright, ecto-tinted stains on everything you touched.

You tugged on your phalanges, hoping it would help. Of course it didn't, the slight popping feelings just reverberating back into that ache and making you grind your teeth and suck in shallow, labored breaths as you tried oh so hard to just, make it back home.

The queue for checking out wasn't too bad, beyond being able to _feel_ the bodyheat off of the people around you. You were almost certain that at least one of them gave you a dirty look for coming out in public like this, but you also couldn't help but fantasize about being laid out on the register then and there, until you worked out every last inkling of this. Your desire to get off was only marginally weaker than your desire to not end up in a cold shower heat-tank until your partner picked you up from the police station with a citation for public indecency.

The car ride was, well. That nice loud engine, and the constant rumbling of the engine you enjoyed so much when you had purchased it, and consistently since, was seven shades of a different experience when you could feel the rumbling like a pack alpha pressing into your back and thighs the whole ride home.

You were grateful you had a fourth floor apartment. It had been hell moving into it, but now, now you got to take an elevator up, with cool air blowing over you, decompressing after a ride home that nearly made you have to explain to your partner why the car smelled like you'd bred in it. The way that your heat coiled in your bones was awful, and you were almost certain that you were going to struggle to move when the elevator got to your floor.

You took slow, steady breathes, trying to press that lingering sticky feeling out of you, the way that your panties clung haphazardly to your half-formed bits, too distracted with everything you had to do today to focus down on what parts you were stuck with until the feeling passed or you were bred.

And then you remembered that your partner was still home, and you whimpered involuntarily, knowing full well what you were about to walk into.

You made it into the door, and called out to your partner, voice involuntarily warbling as you were hit with the familiar, and now very distractingly arousing, smell of your partner. It clung to every surface, and you could just feel your legs wanting to give way, as you dragged yourself into the kitchen, sticking bags on an island, and shakily sorting things out. You knew that-

"Mmmmhello, darling..." Their voice poured like water over a grease fire, as hands shifted around your waist, deliberately catching at the way your pelvis was exposed the second your shirt slipped out of your belt. Your voice hitched and warbled as you protested slightly, before breaking into a whimpering, desperate mewl. "Hnnnh, p-please, Groocerreiees!!" That sentence peaked into a gasp and a yelp, as those hands slid down, and rubbed at your slowly forming folds through your stuck-on shorts, nearly putting you on the floor from how needy you were. It was far too sensitive. You were always caught off guard by how quickly your heat came on, and today was going to be no difference, as your partner dragged a very insistent moan from your throat by dragging fingers here and there.

"I'll get the groceries if you can walk to the bedroom~."

The part of you drenched in heat didn't want him to let go. You wanted him to fuck you right then and there, raw you stupid and hard until you were certain your femurs would separate from your pelvis. But that wasn't a good idea, and the little, fleeting voice that was your more coherent self reminded you that you just spent thirty dollars on groceries and you'd be kicking yourself if you had to re-buy it just so that your horny self could get off quicker.

So you clawed you way to the bedroom, flumping down onto comfortably thin sheets, intentionally chosen to not irritate you at your worse, and whimpered, hips half in the air, just humping at empty space as you heard your partner hum and whistle in the near distance, putting away everything that you'd collected. Every facet of you was focused on the little feelings you knew were coming, that you couldn't, for the life of you, wait for. It was so hot. It felt so, very hot in the room. Your bones felt like putty more than solid material, as if they were going to melt, and drip down onto the fabric.

You don't remember them coming in, which is surprising, because historically all your senses were keyed up, not just your sensation of touch. You were woken from your reverie of arousing dreams all at once, squirming as a hand traced the shape of your pelvis. Your partner was a lot more than just bones, yet they seemed to know exactly where to touch to tease out sounds from you, the spots where you reflexively built up some level of protection with ecto and where laid bare even in the deepest of your need. Fingers quietly slipped to your folds, fingers rubbing on the outside and making that sticky feeling in your chest spread out, almost fuzzy with sexual static as you moaned, low and desperate, into the pillow you had planted into. "mMmmPleasedon'ttease..." you had enough coherence to say, pressing back into their hand, feeling the way they held your need, and breathed out, sighing as fingers finally pushed in and out. It wasn't enough, no, but it was something to help feed the overwhelming need until they bothered to stuff you.

You could hear pants falling to the floor, a soft groan as you were pushed further onto the bed, and your own whine as those fingers held you open, collecting that slick arousal and spreading it on their own member. It felt like you were wet enough to take something twice your size, but the small, weak rational voice in your brain thanked the stars your partner had enough sense to-

Everything when white, for a second, as fingers hooked into your ribs, and something filled you up like it belonged nowhere else.

"Poor little darling of mine is all worked up..?" The voice purred into your neck, breath hot and making your bones prickle, as you came down slowly from a noise that you hadn't processed until you realised you were taking a deep breath in. It was impossible call them anything but intoxicating. Even at the best of times you enjoyed pressing into them, smelling the thin scents of flowers or fruits. "Every time you do this, I forget what Lungs you have on you, but I think I'd rather be pleasantly surprised each time." 

They started to thrust, slowly at first, not quite teasing you so much as stoking that fire deep in you, feeling it pour out over your bones, until you were awash in pleasure, not quite drowning - yet. You begged, pleaded for more, words babbled more than spoken as every shift and press against you made your words run together. Every time they hilted deep into you, your words turned into a compounding, repeated mewl of 'yes' and 'more' and 'please,' a hand reaching up to play over a breast that you'd pulled together subconsciously, encouraging his hands inside of your ribcage, where things were so much more sensitive.

"One...Two.... Three..." Each word was punctuated by a finger dragging itself across a bone somewhere on you, and a stutter in your desperate words as your brain was flooded with pleasure and still more need.

You remember coming down from your first orgasm. You don't actually remember it, instead just a wall of white and static pleasure as your head recovered from a base need being hit right on the head, like driving a spike into a tie. You mewled, and moaned, and turned your head back slightly, to see your partner, who, in spite of their usual self, were nothing but the sort of gentle dom that you always craved when you were like this. 

Your heats were needy, desperate affairs, and even when they were satiated, you tended to cling, hold, cuddle and swing from emotion to emotion in wide arcs. But now, oh, now you were buried in enough pleasure to cry. And you did, face a mix of tears and moans at this point, quivering as your toes curled and your legs tried to lift up and shift around, but they were pinned to the bed. So here you were, phalanges digging desperately at a breast and the fabric of your bed, begging for more, because your partner hadn't climaxed yet, and Stars, you could orgasm all month long and it still wouldn't fix this itch if they didn't come too. You found yourself babbling about being bred before the thought even hit your brain, the idea of being gravid, carrying a child, being oh so full and Stars above, you wanted it so bad. And for the first time, your rational brain wasn't there to temper that desire, that drive to finally use a heat for it's purpose.

Your partner cooed quietly, whispering sweet nothings, before asking you the question. "Are we serious this time..?" Their voice was rich and sweet and made it harder to focus, and you felt yourself nodding desperately.

"please, please please please pleasepleeeeeaseee...~!"

The pressure down into the bed only grew as they redoubled their efforts, no longer trying to draw you out into a dozen something orgasms that would exhaust you, leave the fire guttering from sheer effort as opposed to properly putting it out. They knew what you _wanted,_ an now they could give it to you, because your head and your soul were in harmony. You were ready this time, and as you sank into the feeling, you started squirming and moaning and grabbing at fabric and squeezing desperately at a tit, unable to quite keep to the rhythm that your partner took up. Their musical talents also happened to play into their physical capabilities, and that meant that they had a habit of driving you up a wall in sex. You cried out their name, over and over again, bones struggling to find purchase as you felt that sticky, melty mess in your chest dribble over your bones. If you had any shred of your usual decorum, you might have bit the pillow to try and minimize how needy and noisy you were being. That wasn't happening tonight.

There was another small orgasm, somewhere, that, instead of bleeding off, was pushed right up and into a third full orgasm. You felt your climax hit, and pull, desperately at your partner, trying to keep them from 'escaping,' knowing full well they were going to fill you up with seed, to finally quench that flame. And then they finally did, letting out a low, soft grunt, fingers holding on to you tight, body pressing into yours, as they came into you, and you felt yourself sigh, like feeling the humidity of summer break in a rainstorm. They purred your name into your neck, and you shuddered slightly, vertebrae still so very very sensitive from every little touch and brush, and the kisses they were delivering were so very distracting.

They held you as you came down slowly from that feeling, watching the way that your feet relaxed, from phalange to tarsal and upwars slowly. They let you slump down into the bed, awash in emotions and bliss, guiding you down gently. Your body felt simultaneously too hot, and yet. A slow cooling feeling washed into them, dripping down your spine and across your clavicle, pooling for a moment before dripping along your sternum, as the feeling spread. Your face was a mess, your sheets were a mess, you were a mess. At that moment it didn't matter however.

They pulled you into a cuddle, holding you and pressing hands against your frame quietly, making a point of slowly massaging you in aftercare, knowing that you were likely to have another bout soon enough, but this would help for the time being. You whimpered slightly at him, huffing. "nnnh, nnest..." You murmured, and they chuckled. 

"We can make one later. You're a little tuckered out, and I don't want you falling asleep in a half collected pile of pillows. Besides, I know you, darling. You're going to be ready to go again, more than soon enough."

You smiled a little bit, a big, content grin. You weren't out of the woods yet, but. This was more than good enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is unofficially written for our first patreon, Fionna. We were bouncing off of her about heat, and, well. It was hot, and it was the right time to just, do some writing.


End file.
